


Understanding

by FlirtyFroggy



Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Other, gen-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-16
Updated: 2010-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-10 14:30:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlirtyFroggy/pseuds/FlirtyFroggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edmund and Caspian share a quiet moment before the battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Understanding

**Author's Note:**

> Prince Caspian fic. Slots in between the near-resurrection of the White Witch and the Telmarine army's arrival at the How (after Caspian's chat with Cornelius). Originally posted to my LJ October 2009.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
|   
---|---  
  
Edmund had thought often about what it would be like to be confronted with the White Witch again, though he had done so less and less as the years passed until one day he just stopped thinking about her at all. He was surprised how easy it had been. He had expected to feel… something. Instead, she had just been another enemy to be defeated. He was relieved to discover she had no power over him, and saddened to find that Peter couldn’t say the same.

He wanted to knock both their heads together. Susan had walked out, after giving them both the look she reserved for when Peter had done something particularly foolhardy, and it did not take Edmund long to follow her; he didn’t want to see either of them right now, especially Peter. And so he wandered aimlessly around the How, only thinking about his direction when he had to change it to avoid people. He badly didn’t want to run into Peter. As long as Peter wasn’t around Edmund could pretend that he didn’t feel the crippling ache in the pit of stomach that meant he was disappointed in his older brother.

And Caspian. Edmund wasn’t sure what to make of Caspian. He had been foolish but Edmund could hardly judge anyone for that. He was sure he had the makings of a good king, maybe even a great one. But he wasn’t there yet and Edmund suspected it would be some time before he was. People had already died and more would follow, and soon, but that was only the beginning of the things Caspian had to learn. Edmund did not forget quite so readily as Peter that they had not always been Magnificent and Just; the early years of their reign had been littered with errors, some rectifiable and some not. Caspian’s mistakes were understandable, though that would be of little comfort to the families of the dead. But Peter had already learned these lessons, Peter should know better. He kicked viciously at a loose stone on the ground. Peter was better than this, for the Lion’s sake! He was the High King, he should be above the petty bickering and the squabbles and the jostling for position. He shouldn't really be surprised by Peter’s behaviour; it had been like this for the past year. Every pointless fight, every imagined insult had been about this. He had never had as much trouble reconciling Peter his brother with Peter the High King as he had this year. He had thought it would be better here, that Peter would regain his sense of himself. It wasn’t. He hadn’t.

He felt a hand catch around his elbow and instinctively went for his sword. A moment later he realised that he had walked right out of the How and that the ledge he was standing on was really quite narrow. He turned and found that the hand on his arm belonged to Caspian. A tentative smile. “Perhaps you should be a little more careful,” he said indicating the drop to the ground. “We could not afford to lose you.” The smile fell from his face when Edmund did not return it and a long moment passed before he seemed to realise he still had hold of Edmunds arm. He lifted his hand away quickly.

“I don’t think I’m the one who needs to be careful,” Edmund said, the words colder than he had intended. He was fairly certain that Caspian didn’t need anyone to tell him he had made a mess of things. The way Caspian dropped his gaze in response told him he was right. Caspian nodded slightly and took a step back and Edmund happily took his cue to leave.

The hand caught his elbow again and he turned back to find Caspian standing closer than Edmund was entirely comfortable with. “Forgive me. I didn’t— I tried— I mean—” Caspian sighed in frustration. He had still not let go of Edmund. “Forgive me. And thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t—” apparently running out of words again, he settled for waving his hand in the direction of the How.

“I do know what would have happened. But it’s alright. I understand.” Edmund gently pulled his arm away and Caspian nodded again, looking only slightly reassured. He stepped away from Edmund and sat down with his legs hanging over the side of the ledge. His brigandine and sword lay beside him, within easy reach. He wasn’t completely clueless then. Edmund hesitated a moment and then sat down at his side looking out towards the distant trees. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Caspian turn to him in surprise, but when Edmund said nothing he looked away again. They sat in silence for a time, watching the stillness of the world. Edmund wondered if Caspian knew how deceptive it was — how the world was anything but still and how every quiet-seeming corner could hide a new friend or a new enemy. Or an old one. Then he remembered what had prompted Caspian’s rash actions at the castle. If Caspian didn’t know about hidden enemies before, he certainly knew about them now.

“It was not what I wanted,” Caspian said suddenly. “The Witch. I just wanted a way to defeat my uncle. I did not know what they would do.”

“Didn’t you?”

“Of course not!” Caspian’s look of shock turned into a thoughtful frown. “I don’t think so. I hope not. I don’t know.” He looked troubled and Edmund took pity on him.

“It’s alright. I told you, I do understand. Better than most. Besides, you’re not the first person Peter’s driven to desperate measures. You probably won’t be the last.”

Caspian huffed a laugh at that and then frowned again. “What do you mean ‘better than most’?”

Edmund had wondered whether the story of his betrayal had survived the centuries. Now he had his answer. At least, Caspian apparently knew nothing about it and he seemed pretty well informed. Better even than some of the Narnians. Edmund had long since stopped worrying that everyone thought him unworthy because of what he had done, but there was still something freeing about the thought of a Narnia where no-one knew that Edmund the Just had once been Edmund the Traitor.

He was suddenly struck by the thought that here was someone he could trust; that Caspian knew what it was to be taken in by a lie you wanted to believe, and to have blood on your hands as a result. He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it again. What if he was wrong? He wasn’t often wrong about people these days, but it did happen on occasion.

Caspian noticed his hesitation. “I'm sorry. I should not have asked. It is none of my business.”

Edmund could see curiosity burning through every word and again almost told Caspian everything. But instead he smiled and said “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you some other time.” He ignored the small voice inside him that said ‘coward’ and continued on. “Can I ask you something?” He paused and waited for the brief nod he knew Caspian would give. “Why weren’t you better prepared?”

Caspian’s laugh was filled with too much bitterness for someone so young. “The list of things for which I am not adequately prepared is quite extensive. You will have to be more specific.”

Edmund tried to hide a smirk and knew he had failed. Caspian didn’t seem to mind. “Why didn’t you have a plan for when the baby was born? You must have known what would happen if your aunt had a boy.” The look of surprise on Caspian’s face answered many of Edmund's questions.

“I don’t know,” Caspian said after a long pause. “I knew my uncle was not a good man but I did not know then what I know now.” His mouth twisted as he spoke. “If I had I might have acted differently. But no, I don’t think I did know what would happen if it was a boy. Or I didn’t believe it. That was probably very naïve of me.”

“Yes, it was,” Edmund said, surprising another laugh from Caspian, a genuine one this time.

“You are very honest.”

“Well, I find that honesty is usually the best policy. At least among friends.”

“It must be a family trait.” Caspian’s face was expressionless as he looked out at the tree-line but it didn’t take Edmund’s long experience as a diplomat to know what, or rather who, he was talking about.

“Peter is—” Edmund was not in the habit of discussing his brother’s mental state with people who weren’t Susan or Lucy and he was not about to start now. “Peter is the High King.”

“Yes he is.” Caspian’s expression was still unreadable; he was learning. If he lived long enough he would make a creditable politician.

Movement on the edge of the forest caught Edmunds eye and he reached for Caspian’s arm. There was no need; Caspian had seen it too. What at first seemed to be a vague shifting in the trees changed quickly, becoming an indistinct silhouette before forming into the solid front line of Miraz’s army.

“Someone should tell the High King,” Caspian said, reaching for his sword as the lookout above raised the alarm. Edmund was already heading back into the How. They had plans to make, and little time to make them.

 

 


End file.
